Pirate
by Silver Weasley
Summary: It isn't something one chooses to be, it is something one is.' [Jackcentric, DMC spoilers]


**Pirate**

**_Disclaimer: _**It's not mine. Unfortunately.

**_Disclaimer: _**'It isn't something one chooses to be, it is something one is.' Jack-centric, DMC spoilers

**A/N: **This is my first _Pirates of the Caribbean _fic, and I am actually quite pleased with it. I love this series tons, and will probably explore all my favorite characters thoroughly as time goes by. This is most likely the shortest complete story I've ever written, but I love Jack Sparrow, and his attention span is never too long anyways. Also, it is 2:30 in the morning (I'm jetlagged), but now I'm starting to get a bit tired, so 918 words was all I could manage. Also, I did not bother to proofread extensively, so apologies in advance for sleep-deprived-induced (yeesh) errors. Enjoy!

**_ooo_**

Pirate.

Captain Jack Sparrow loves the very word, the shape it makes in his mouth. It isn't something one chooses to be, it is something one _is. _The sea calls to you before you can speak, beckoning a persistent hand, whispering stories of freedom and adventure, of a life full of salt and the wind in your hair. It means you answer to no one, you live by your own hand, and if anyone should happen to question your judgment, your morals, or even your manners, all you have to do is smile roguishly and say, by way of excuse,

"_Pirate_."

That shuts them up every time.

Jack quickly learned that a pirate's life is not all daring adventures and freedom, however. Quite the contrary—his piracy has gotten him locked up, held prisoner, run out of taverns, and kicked out of countries. He won't lie to himself and say he's particularly noble or brave or even very smart; he owes the very air he breathes to a series of fortunate accidents and dumb luck. Not to say that he's not capable. He can certainly smooth talk his way out of almost any situation, aim steady and true, and wield a sword with the best of them. No, Jack isn't a man to be reckoned with by any means, and he is not ashamed to be what he is.

Pirate. It's a good word, an _honest _word. At least he isn't putting on airs and pretending to be moral or any kind of decent when he's rotten as an overripe, sun-baked apple, willing to risk anything and anyone to save his own skin, if only so that he can pace his ship and steer himself and a loyal crew towards their destiny. He's more of a liar than anyone he knows, but at least he's warning people what they're in for. For shame, he even can make Will look a hypocrite. You take one look at that pretty boy with his innocent eyes and his "I-Must-Save-the-Day!" complex and you think, "Now there's a good lad, that's the kind of boy I want marrying my daughter!" or maybe, "What a _sissy _boy. I bet I could take him."

If you happen to think the former, then you'd be horrified to hear he befriends pirates, has been known to steal ships (more specifically, _a _ship), and once served a short but eventful sentence on the crew of Davy Jones. If your first impression happens to be that of Jack's himself (i.e., the latter), well then, mate, you're in for a rather nasty shock. That sissy boy fights like five men and is so annoyingly righteous (in the worst sense of the word), he'll have you second-guessing half the lies you tell. He'd rather see him_self _swing from the gallows then admit (publicly) he's got piracy flowing through his would-be decent veins.

Jack, at least, has never pretended to be anything than what he is. Freeloader. Impulsive. Sly. _Pirate._

And yet, here he is, handcuffed to a ship's mast after having just thoroughly snogged Will Turner's fiancée (that'll show you for trying to steal the thump-thump, _sissy!_) and he's surprised to find he doesn't mind in the slightest.

Could what that wench Elizabeth said be true? Could he honestly be a good man, deep down inside?

He was never _evil_—not like he'd murder innocent babes. Steal their candy, maybe, but he'd never actually harm a little one. And do you see any on his crew complaining of anything but their captain's questionable sanity? He doesn't lash them or treat them cruelly; there's always plenty of rum and drinking songs, they have naught to fear from him but an eccentric's whim. There's a fine line, a _very _fine line, between good and bad, and Jack has always fallen somewhere sharply in the middle. He'll steal a rich man's purse but give a poor man his rum (well…maybe a _sip _of rum). He'll sentence a decent man to a lifetime's service on the crew of Davy Jones, but leave him there? Never. Not for _too _long, anyways.

His heart is crooked, his grin is genuine, his love for the sea matched only by his love for himself, for what he could have or might have, for the freedom and spirit of his life. When he is at last dead and gone, people will remember Jack Sparrow; there will be ballads and stories and jokes made about him.

Is he a good man?

He'll be damned.

A bad man?

No, he's not so vain he'd presume to be _that._

He works the cuff off, survival instinct finally kicking in, but it is already too late. Timbers moan as the ship creaks, the Kraken's roar deafens him, and he is pleased (highly so) to get his hat back at last. He stares defiantly at the monster, greets it cheekily, and then steps into its jaws, deciding now is hardly the time to fight fate. Perhaps it matters little if he is good, bad, or in between. Perhaps it matters only that he is Jack—_Captain_ Jack—Sparrow, and there will never be another like him.

Perhaps, in all truth, he is merely what he said he was—

The Kraken grumbles irritably; he has stuck quite nastily in its throat on the way down.

"Well, what'd you expect, mate?" Jack demands, grumpy that he has been shaken out of what was shaping up to be a very nice introspective reverie. "_Pirate_."

**_ooo_**

I love reviews like Krakens love pirate captains with Black Spots.

Hahaha, I crack me up. (cough) Don't mind me. I'm tired. xDD

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